


The Foundling

by Whytewytch



Series: Family [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 17:31:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10904136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whytewytch/pseuds/Whytewytch
Summary: Odin brings back many spoils of war from Jotunheim.





	The Foundling

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Goatess and theothercourse for their beta skills. Any remaining mistakes are solely mine. I am one of those authors who doesn't mind concrit, so if you spot anything wrong or anything you like, go ahead and mention it, please. :)
> 
> I have brought in some elements from the actual Norse mythology. Frigga's maid, Fulla who is sometimes also referred to as Frigga's sister, will play a part in upcoming shorts as well as a multi-chapter I am working on. Odin's ravens, Huginn (thought) and Muninn (memory) are also an important aspect of the mythology.
> 
> This is a one-shot, but there may be other little vignettes like this to follow, of Loki pre-Thor (the movie). One day I might or might not put them together into one story. For now, this stands alone.

The infant squalled the whole way back from the Rainbow Bridge to the keep. Odin’s ears regretted his heart’s decision to rescue the child. He knew he would never be able to pass the babe off as his own. Too many warriors and servants had seen him return from Jotunheim with his cargo.

The tall golden doors opened at his approach, revealing his beautiful wife, Frigga. She smiled and stepped toward him, then frowned as the baby let loose another ear-piercing screech. “I thought you were off waging war, not love. But even so, this is quick work for you, my dear.” 

“Are not love and war two sides of a coin?” He leaned in to kiss her cheek. 

She wrinkled her nose and plucked the child from his arms, stepping nimbly out of his reach. “Yes, but you reek of the latter, not the former.” 

He chuckled. “Had I reeked of the former, I would currently be engaged in the latter with my beautiful goddess.”

“I never said you were stupid, merely foolish at times. Your bath awaits you. Go, I shall see to the babe. You may tell me how it came to be here later.” She glanced down. The child had quieted and begun rooting around at her breast, looking for food.

He reached for her again, turning her chin up to gaze into her deep green eyes. “Give the babe to a nurse and join me.”

She looked him over and pursed her lips. “Perhaps another time, when you are not covered in the gore of our enemies.”

His search bringing him only clothing, the child began to cry anew as Frigga turned and walked into the keep with him.

“I know how you feel, little one,” Odin watched his wife’s hips sway with her strides. “I know how you feel.”

~*~  
Frigga’s maids opened the door to her chambers as she strode in and made her way to the couch by the tall windows. Late day autumn sunlight glinted off the waters of the lake, and reflected on the glass. The sun was beginning to lose its battle with the encroaching night, the stain of its sacrifice painting the clouds in shades of red and blue and orange. 

Frigga settled in with her noisy charge and opened the left side of her tunic. She helped the child find her nipple and he latched on with gusto. One of the perks of being the goddess of fertility was the ability to lactate on demand. He suckled hard, and her body relaxed into nursing mode.

She pulled back the rags that Odin had swaddled the babe in. It was a boy. She inhaled sharply as his skin began to turn blue and small ridges formed on his tiny forehead. A frost giant, then. But so small, Asgardian in size. The poor thing must have been left out to be torn apart by wolves, an embarrassment to his parents. 

A gasp made her turn her head to the right. She raised a finger to her lips, urging her sister to silence. She waved her right hand over the boy and his skin tone returned to Asgardian complexion, his forehead smoothing.

“I know, Fulla. Is he not the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen?”

Fulla swallowed and nodded, bending over her sister’s shoulder. 

“No one must ever know, not even the child,” Frigga whispered in her ear.

Fulla reached down to tickle the child’s belly and his hand grabbed her finger, squeezing in rhythm with his hungry suckling. Her face relaxed, her heart melting.  
“Odin’s soldiers?”

“They will do as Odin commands.”

“And the servants?”

“They will do as I command. Support the child. I am going to contact my husband.”

Fulla moved to sit in front of Frigga, reaching her hands under the baby’s head and body. Frigga closed her eyes, deepened her breathing, and quieted her mind, sending it questing to find Odin.

He was where she had expected to find him, in a bath in his chambers. Her image crossed its arms and raised an eyebrow at the giggling washer-girls. They surrounded his tub, helping the grinning god clean up as he flirted with them. He grabbed a raven-haired girl and pulled her into the tub with him, sending the water splashing over the sides. Frigga’s image cleared its throat in disapproval, sending the wide-eyed girl scurrying away. Her husband frowned before a welcoming smile lit his face. 

“Frigga. You changed your mind. Remove your dress and join me, wife.”

“So now you recall that you have one? A moment ago, you seemed to have been suffering from a loss of that memory.”

“Perhaps Muninn is sleeping.” He grinned broadly, not knowing or caring of his precarious position.

“Perhaps it was Huginn who was sleeping.” She looked up at the assembled servants, who quietly studied the tiles of the floor. “Out, all of you. I would speak to my husband alone.”

The girls left, and Frigga stepped up to the tub. Odin grinned broadly. Frigga put her hands on her hips. “You do know this is my doppelgänger, do you not? We must speak of the child.”

Odin’s smile faltered. “Of course I knew it was your image. And what is there to speak of?”

“Whose child is he?”

Odin picked up the sponge and began washing himself. “I know not, but I suspect he is the whelp of Laufey and his bride.” He glanced up at her. “You are not surprised by this news.”

“I saw he was a frost giant. Your magic faltered a moment. I strengthened it with my own. He will look Asgardian unless he comes into direct contact with anything of Jotunheim. We will raise him.” It was a statement, not a question. 

Odin smiled. “Of course. He will learn the ways of Asgard and come to love our people. When he is mature enough to take a throne, we shall make a treaty with Laufey to return his son. The boy will take the throne and there will be peace between our peoples.”

“As you will, husband. But he will be our son. No one must ever tell him he is anything else. What shall we call him?”

Odin paused in his washing. “He should have a name to harken to his Jotun heritage. His grandfather was Utgard-Loki. We shall call him Loki.”

“Are you certain? We are trying to raise him as an Asgardian.”

“But when he goes home to rule his people, he will need a name they can respect. Loki it is, and I’ll not argue that.”

“Very well, husband.” Frigga’s image bowed its head and disappeared. 

In her own chamber, Frigga smiled down at the boy. “Welcome to your home, Loki, son of Odin. Welcome to your family.”


End file.
